"Are you almost done shooting?"
Alex sighed into the phone. "Yes, Amy, we just have one more scene left to film. It shouldn't take too much longer," Alex held the phone away slightly, "unless TIM KEEPS FORGETTING HIS LINES!" he shouted, earning a look of hatred from the other man. Alex put the phone to his ear once more. "Well, Spielberg, I hope you haven't forgotten our date." Amy sassed. "We're dating?" Alex questioned, smiling despite himself. He could practically feel Amy's eye roll. "Oh, I am so picking out a horrible movie to watch. Just for that." There was a moment of silence. Alex could hear Amy moving things around. Probably DVD's. "It's the Princess Bride, isn't it?" Alex questioned. Amy did not reply. "You picked the Princess Bride, didn't you." They had watched it a total of 3 out of the 9 movie nights that they had done. "It might be." Amy said with faux stiffness. "Wow, I love you." Alex laughed. "I know." Amy replied, hanging up first.
"I've done everything to keep this under control. Everyone is dead. Sarah, Seth, Jessica, Amy, Brian, Jay, and now you." Alex threw himself around the corner, using his height to his advantage as he pinned the smaller man to the wall. His fingers tightened around Tim's throat. Tim's camera was still recording. "You weren't containing it." the other man gasped out, the words bubbling up through his constricted throat. "You were just feeding it."
The front porch needed to be swept. That was what Alex noticed, as he focused on the ground, listening to the approaching footsteps of the woman whose doorbell he had just rang. There was a pause, as she peered through the door's peephole.
He was an expected guest.
Sarah unlocked her door, smiling at him as she opened it. "Alex, hey, come in." she said quickly, opening the screen door for him. Alex nodded a greeting, walking into her home. "I don't know why you couldn't have told me this over the phone…" Sarah said, sitting down in an armchair closest to the door. She gestured for Alex to do the same. "Because….some things you have to say in person." Alex said, aware of how cryptic he sounded. He wasn't as nervous as he thought he would be. This was different than last time. "Well, tell me then. I guess. What happened to Seth?" Alex looked up. Sarah was facing him, leaned forward in her chair. She looked concerned, perhaps. Annoyed. Alex had never been very good at reading facial expression. "What needed to happen." he said calmly, standing up. This visit would be short. He couldn't bear to make it anything but that. "I'm sorry...should I understand what that's supposed to mean?" Sarah questioned, clearly irritated. "I'm sorry, Sarah. You have to understand. It was for the best." Alex reached into his jacket pocket, putting a hand on the gun. "This is for the best."
She didn't scream, and for that, Alex was thankful. The shot was deafening in the small room. "I'm just trying to stop this." he whispered, but Sarah wasn't listening anymore.
Pocketing the gun again, Alex moved towards the door. He could feel it in the room. Closing his eyes, hand on the door knob, he silently counted to twenty. By the time he had finished counting, it was gone, and so was she.
The blood was gone, too.
"Shut up." Alex growled, fingers closing ever tighter around Tim's throat. But not tight enough, yet. He wanted to hear what he had to say. He needed to hear it.
"Is this in crayon?" Jay questioned exasperatedly, holding up a piece of paper. Alex squinted across the room, trying to read the paper. "What is it?" he asked, his already poor eyesight failing him. "The script to your film. I'm supervising it, like you told me to, and let me tell you that there is a lot to...to supervise." Jay sputtered, tossing the script onto the couch next to him with a huff.
"I can't help it when inspiration strikes and all I have to write with is a crayon." Alex replied, returning to his laptop. A few moments later, a well aimed ball of paper hit his forehead. "I'm going to buy a bunch of pens," Jay said, lying down on the couch, "and I am going to staple them to your body." Alex smiled. "So any time I had an idea, I would have to rip a pen off of my body? How..poetically macabre. We could work that into the film. Write that down, script supervisor."
"I don't have a pen."
Alex sat on the floor, knees drawn up to his chest, breathing in and out slowly. He had to keep awake. There was work to be done.
He knew Jay was coming. He knew that this would have to happen eventually. But this was different than the others. He knew that he was close to ending this, stopping it from spreading. But that didn't stop this from being different.
He had seen the last videos Jay had uploaded, or rather, that Tim had uploaded. It had begun to spread more rapidly than he had thought. Jay needed this. He didn't deserve to go through the same hell that he had gone through these past years. Jay deserved a rest.
It was too easy. He didn't even look into the room Alex was in as he entered the basement. Alex watched him wander down the hall, camera in hand, still small and skinny like he had been. But gaunter, more sickly. Alex took a steadying breath, stepping out into the center of the hall. Jay turned around, and Alex raised his gun. He could see Jay speaking, but he didn't hear it. He barely registered the retort of the gun.
Calmly, he followed Jay to the room he had thrown himself in. For a brief moment, he wanted to explain, to let Jay know that he was going to be okay now. That he wasn't going to be sick anymore. But the door wasn't opening, and after a few minutes, he knew it was too late. Jay was gone, and so was the urge to justify his actions.
"When you killed Amy, did you feel in control then?" Just for a moment, Alex's grip loosened.
"Alex?" Amy questioned, looking confused. She looked the same as she had months ago, when Alex had promised to be back soon. He still had the key to the house. "Where were you?" she asked, standing in the doorway to the kitchen. Her hair was down, and she hadn't put on makeup yet. It was only 10 AM.
"I'm sorry, Amy. I didn't mean for this to happen." Alex said, taking a step towards Amy. She didn't move. "For what to happen, Alex? For that thing to show up in our house? For you to tell me that you would be right back, and then never come home? Never return a single phone call or text? I left you hundreds, Alex. I was scared, and you didn't come back, and now here you are, and you're sorry!?" Amy's voice had risen several octaves, to an angry shout. Alex had stopped looking at her, instead focusing on the area just over her shoulder; a kitchen cupboard. He blinked back tears. "I'm sorry I got you involved, Amy." he said, his voice barely above a whisper, "I'm sorry that you're sick." Amy blinked, confused. "I'm not sick, Alex." she said. Alex sucked in a breath, fumbling shakily for the gun in his pocket.
Amy was much quicker than Sarah had been, reeling backwards into the kitchen. "Alex?" she gasped, stumbling backwards. Alex closed his eyes as he fired the shot. He was too close to miss anyway.
Amy's blood had soaked through his jeans. Alex knew that it was waiting for him to move away from her body, but he wasn't ready yet. He had tried to explain to her, as she had died, that she was safe now. That this was the only way she would ever be safe. She hadn't been able to speak as she died, just gasp and shake. It wasn't like the movies. Alex was almost glad of the fact. He was scared to hear what she would have said.
Half of an hour was too long. It had grown impatient. He refused to look at it, in the corner of the room, but it looked at him, and then she was gone. The only thing that remained was the dark red stain, not yet fully dried on the front of his jeans.
Alex reeled back, letting go of his choke hold on Tim. He didn't want to hear him speak anymore. He brought a fist back, ready to test how many times Tim's head could hit the concrete wall behind him before he lost consciousness.
But Tim used this moment to his advantage, throwing his weight onto Alex.
He didn't register the knife until he was on the ground, instinctively clutching his neck.
Then it was there, and Tim was screaming, and Alex could feel his own pulse, pumping the blood out of his body and onto the concrete beneath him.
And then Tim dropped the camera, and Alex found himself hardly fighting back.
"Is this going to end up on the gag reel?" Jay questioned, breathless from laughing. "It better!" Jessica shouted, walking towards them, "Because I am never going to replicate that." Seth continued to rub the back of his head. "Yeah, nailing me in the head with an apple from twenty feet away. Haha, comedy gold." he retorted, rolling his eyes and walking towards Brian, who was at least attempting to put on a concerned face. "I should put everything you do on a gag reel." Alex replied, smirking. "Because everything you do is a joke." Tim finished, approaching Alex from behind.
Alex had never seen Tim run so fast, nor was he ever quite sure of how Jessica had managed to fit five apples into her jacket pockets and maintain her accuracy at a sprinting pace.
"I'm glad I didn't finish that joke." Alex said quietly, following the action with the camera.
"Yeah, I don't think you can run that fast." Jay laughed.
Alex had never been so acutely aware of how difficult breathing was. He could feel the blood, warm and wet, rising in his throat and seeping out of the wound in his throat that Jay's knife had left. He knew that pressing his hand against it would do nothing. But he had to try. He had to tell Tim. As the other man stood, staggering out of the room, Alex attempted to speak. "This isn't over." he choked, sickened by the amount of blood that flowed from his mouth as he said it. "You see how this spreads. If there's someone left, you have to kill them. Kill yourself."
Tim limped out of the room, and Alex watched him for as long as he could. Alex knew that he would die, that he had to die, but not like this. Not with his task left unfinished. Tim was still alive, the source of it all. It had been Tim who had brought it to them, exposed them all to the creature. And if he lived, he would expose countless more.
But Alex had tried. He knew that. He had saved them; Amy, Jay, the others. He had saved them from it, from the sickness that had overtaken him, and Brian. He had tried to save Brian…
He had saved five.
As Alex's vision darkened, he removed the hand that had been pressing valiantly against his neck.
He didn't want to be sick anymore. He wanted it to be over.